Blue Freedom, White Wish
by PirateShotgun
Summary: MM SLASH. Tasuki is a college student in modern times with the past memories of love he shared with Chichiri in ancient China. Intent on getting that love back, Tasuki will do anything to make Chichiri recall his past life.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fushigi Yugi, obviously. This is a M/M slash romance story with serious adult content in later chapters. If you do not believe in a healthy relationship between two men or are otherwise not allowed to view such content, go away now._

_A few notes: This story will be written as if the Eikou Den series never occurred. I am a college student with little, if no time, to write fan-fiction. When I do post new chapters, they will be and are obviously very sporadic. I have been a committed and noble follower of Fushigi Yugi since I was twelve and thusly, it is the only anime I will ever stop to consider spending time writing about. I do appreciate those people who enjoy this fun story._

_Also: Because Chichiri is supposed to have a PH.D, he is his OVA age of twenty-seven and simply because I did not want Tasuki to be a teenager, he is a twenty-year-old sophomore college student._

-

_Winter. All around him, nothing but an endless expanse of freshly fallen snow that held a slight crunch to it when stepped upon. It was mid afternoon but you wouldn't be able to tell that by the peculiar look of the grayish blue sky, still spitting snowflake after snowflake, as if there wasn't enough already._

_Houjun was cold. It felt like he had been standing in the middle of this colorless span for hours with that kind of cold that bites and numbs all your extremities in such a way that your toes feel like rocks under your weight and your fingers are nonexistent. He felt his throat tighten as he breathed in the frozen air. Suddenly, his ear picked up the distinct sound of movement from far off._

"_It's fuckin' cold! Can we go yet!?"_

Houjun was startled awake in bed, his body jolting in fright and confusion, sitting him up in a breathless panic. He looked around his clean and modest bedroom, early morning light breathing through his blinds.

Inhaling heavily, Houjun reached up, running a shaky hand through his long, blue hair and then rubbing the sleep from his left eye. He took a moment to collect himself from the dream before climbing out of the fluffy and down blankets, opening his window and letting in the morning. He walked towards his closet, clad only in his pajama bottoms. He removed a pair of dark brown, suit pants, a white shirt, red tie and brown vest before venturing to the bathroom to shower for the day.

When he returned to his room, beginning to get dressed, he stopped halfway through buttoning his shirt, finding himself staring aimlessly out the window. His brow furrowed in thought.

_Was that the first or... the hundredth time I've had that dream?_ Houjun thought, fingers absently buttoning once more. _I don't remember._

Once dressed, hair neatly tied back and ignoring the bangs that always seemed to fall into his eyes, Houjun gathered his school books and graded papers, stuffing them into his briefcase and leaving the humble apartment as he left that morning for the university.

-

Ri Houjun's office, which in all reality was more like the size of a closet, was located on the west wing of the history building. Only the department chairpersons of the ancient histories were granted workspaces so the humble offering that had been extended to Houjun the past year he had accepted graciously. Houjun taught both history majors as well as humanities courses that any student was able to attend, so his office, shoebox size or not, made it enormously easier for him to meet with all his students throughout the year.

The clock on the wall to his left ticked quietly, Houjun gazed on his laptop's glowing screen while his mind was completely on its own. Realizing he had read the same e-mail going on three times now and still had no idea what it was actually pertaining to, Houjun shook his head out of the daydream and settled more to the edge of his chair, beginning to scan the text again.

Only moments into typing his reply, Houjun fell back in the chair, staring at the floor, his brow furrowed a bit as he thought.

Like most mornings, out of habit, Myojuan carried his folders of class work tucked at his side and glanced through Houjun's open office door, catching a glimpse of his friend as he continued past. Stopping suddenly, the medical doctor and now college professor turned and looked back in. His warm eyes smiled brightly as he walked into the room.

"Houjun?"

The latter remained undisturbed at his desk, chin propped up under his hand.

Finding Houjun in such a state was not anything new to Myojuan. Most assumed Houjun to be, although professional and very intelligent, a daydreamer. Myojuan knew otherwise. There was something in Houjun's gaze, as if he were searching through thick, ancient clouds and getting to see something so far away, see something magical, even. Houjun never looked happy though, when Myojuan found him in this condition. He seemed troubled and always trying to suppress it.

Quietly, as not to startle the younger man, Myojuan raised a hand and knocked on the threshold of the door, waving when Houjun glanced up. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Myojuan." Houjun stood, pulling his vest absently as he stepped around his desk and shook his friend's hand. "How are you?"

"I'm well."

"Have a pleasant weekend?"

Myojuan nodded. "I can't complain." He pointed to the desk. "Was I interrupting anything important?"

Houjun looked over his shoulder, then back with a bit of confusion on his face. "What do you mean?"

"You seemed deep in thought."

Houjun waved his hand. "No, nothing important."

Myojuan leaned comfortably against the doorframe. "I hardly saw you last week, what with it being the first week of the fall semester… how was it for you?"

Houjun released a breath of air as he shrugged. "It was fine, I suppose. Quite a bit of gossipers in my humanities courses."

Myojuan just chuckled and nodded. "It's bound to happen when you have photography majors in a course on ancient China, Houjun." He pat his shoulder. "The first few weeks are always a bit of a roller coaster ride, you know that."

Houjun nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll think more positive about it."

Myojuan grinned. "There you go." He checked his watch. "How long until your next class?"

"Oh, not until eleven."

Myojuan looked up through the bit of his dark hair. "It's five till, Houjun."

"What?" Houjun looked down at his watch and his eyes widened suddenly. "Oh _Suzaku_!" He turned and ran back to his desk, snapping shut his briefcase and rushing past Myojuan with a hurried 'goodbye' as he ran for his class.

Having to start walking once he began to pass students and needed to look more like a professor and not a student who had slept through his alarm clock, Houjun finally made it to his classroom door, stopping to straighten his tie before going inside. He walked into the large room, stopping at the desk and setting his things down in neat piles, turning and watching the loud, obnoxious class continue on with their conversations. Glancing at his watch once more, he gave them one more minute as he began to write the day's lesson and a few beginning notes on the board.

Raising his voice for quiet, something Houjun never liked to do, he took attendance. _Second week and already nine absent students_, he thought to himself with a small frown. "Good morning, class," he began, moving to the front of his desk and leaning back on it, arms crossed gingerly over his chest. "I asked you to read chapters one through four in your mythology books, were there any questions?"

The class was silent, faces elongating and students leaning far back in their seats. Those that were there merely for their history credit, sat in the far back, heads lowered and eyes already closed. The bubbly group of girls in front, who were in fact interior design majors, not photography, sat up close and were shameless with their looks of longing, of which Houjun adamantly ignored to the best of his ability. The few actual ancient history students could be picked out by the fact they were the most attentive in the class, notebooks out, pens raised.

"Well, I suppose if there were no questions, I should ask, who enjoyed the reading?" His shoulders dropped slightly as his half a dozen history students raised their hands. "No one else?" The room was silent. "Very well…"

The classroom door was thrown open suddenly, doorknob slamming back against the wall. Houjun winced at the interruption and turned to see the intruder.

"S-Sorry I'm late," the student spoke, approaching the desk and offering Houjun a folded and crumpled paper. "Genrou, I just transferred into this class." The fiery redhead had an enormous grin on his face, staring at Houjun excitedly.

Houjun frowned as he unfolded the mess, an official letter from the school's sophomore class advisor giving permission for the student to change classes. "Genrou, or Kou Shun'u?" Houjun asked, referring to the student's name on the paper, dark red eyes meeting bright, golden ones.

The student winced, ever so slightly at the mention of _Kou Shun'u_ and rubbed the back of his head, causing disarray to his already messy mane of bright hair. He grinned widely once more, producing two canine teeth that were more like fangs than anything else. "Call me, Genrou." He paused and stared at Houjun for another moment before adding on for good measure, "_please_?"

Houjun neatly folded the paper back up, pointing to an empty seat a few rows back. "Take a seat, please be on time next week."

Genrou nodded absently and moved through an aisle of desks, sitting himself down and pulling out a notebook and pen.

For three hours, Houjun taught while trying to ignore the feeling of eyes drilling into his back as he stood at the chalkboard. Through years of meditation and studying the energies of the human mind and body, he had learned to see, feel and interpret auras.

While explaining events that caused a great war to his class, Houjun let a part of himself feel through the student body, to understand how the group was feeling. Most seemed to be fine, calm, some bored. It was all but one, the transfer student, who's bright eyes lit his back on fire, who's aura was so bright it was as if Houjun were staring at the sun.

It made him nervous. It made him comfortable. The warmth that emitted from the attentive student was reassuring but the intensity of his energy set Houjun on the edge.

His decision on whether he approved of Kou— _Genrou_, could not be made by the end of class and it turned his gut.

Stopping his notes on the board, Houjun checked his watch when he began to feel those behind him beginning to itch anxiously. "Sorry to keep you," he spoke. "Please be sure to read the required text this week, you will be quizzed!" He rubbed his temple while watching the students begin talking amongst themselves once more, gathering their things and shuffling out of the classroom at a leisurely pace.

Genrou slung his bag over his shoulder and stood from his chair, watching his professor sit down at his own desk as the class was leaving. He took a few steps towards the door then stopped, looking over his shoulder. Houjun's expression was serene but there was something hiding below the surface, somewhere in his dark red, ruby eyes.

Genrou began walking towards his professor, getting halfway to Houjun's desk before he realized it and stopped himself.

Houjun glanced up and smiled. "Genrou, can I help you with anything?"

_Always kind,_ Genrou thought. "Ah? Oh, no, no nothin'."

Houjun stared at the redhead a moment longer, his gaze lingering as he studied the student before nodding. "Alright. Have a good week."

_Do recognize me?_ "Professor," Genrou started.

Houjun looked back up. "Yes?"

Genrou shut his eyes and lowered his head. _No, we promised when we found one another, no matter what public barriers there were, we'd run to each other. I'm a stranger to ya, aren't I?_ "It's nothing." Genrou turned, pulling the strap of his bag up on his shoulder once more and leaving the room.

Genrou slammed the classroom door shut behind himself, ignoring the flared up and confused aura of his professor. He didn't get ten feet from the door before he was shoved hard in the shoulder.

"Ah, Genrou! So!?" Koji asked hurriedly, a smile on his large face. He motioned behind him with a thumb. "I bolted out of class to find out, is it him?"

Genrou looked over his shoulder at his history classroom and back at Koji. "It's him."

"Seriously!?" Koji shouted. "Yer shitin' me! Chiri's right in that room, there!? What he say?"

Genrou began to walk down the hall, his lifetime friend and blood brother hurrying at his side. "He told me, don't be late for next class and to have a good week."

"What?"

"He doesn't remember me."

Koji nodded, wrapping an arm around Genrou's shoulders, neither speaking for a moment. "Well," he finally spoke, gently. "We both knew it'd happen like that, didn't we?"

"What'ya mean?"

Koji shrugged. "You and me," he started, the two making their way towards the closest university café. "We only remembered because of nearly getting' killed in a car crash."

"And?"

"If it takes a fuckin' near death experience to make someone remember repressed memories and shit, ya think all your buddies have been through that?" Koji leaned forward and pushed open the café door.

Genrou slipped his hands into his jean pockets. "I don't know what to do."

Koji didn't hear Genrou as he had already be a mad dash to the counter, paying for some of the leftover eggs and toast before finding a quiet table in the back. Genrou joined him a minute later with a sandwich but only stared at his plate while Koji inhaled his own food.

"Not hungry?"

"No, not really."

"That's a first."

Genrou looked up with a glare. "Hey, I just found the love of my life and he thinks I'm some shitty student and will never remember me unless he happens to find himself shot or trampled by a fuckin' elephant or somethin'. I'd appreciate some god-damn sympathy."

Koji smirked. "The love of your life, huh?"

Genrou grabbed a chip and threw it at Koji. "Shut up."

"Don't worry, Genrou."

"How?" Genrou waved his hands frantically. "Do you not quite get the situation!? Koji, I've been searchin' for him since we were sixteen! Now to have him so close and so far at the same time, it's… not fair."

Koji leaned forward. "You said the two of ya vowed to find each other, yah?"

Genrou shrugged, hiding the reddening of his face. "Yeah…"

"It'll happen." Koji shoveled the last of his eggs into his mouth and swallowed before saying, "Chiri always keeps his promise."

-

To Be Continued

PirateShotgun


	2. Chapter 2

"_What'er thinkin' about?" Tasuki stared down at the dark red eye below him._

"_Everything."_

"_That's a lot of shi—stuff."_

_The man smiled, his scar creasing slightly by the movement. "I think about Miaka, I think about Suzaku, His Highness… you."_

_Tasuki leaned against his raised arm and grinned slyly. "Yeah? And what is it 'bout me that you think of?" He ran his hand down the front of the man's chest, slowly slipping it under the cotton shirt and pressed it against warm skin._

_Another smile. "How much you care about the people, your gentleness and kindness, the way you fight for what is right even though you boast your bandit background."_

_Tasuki frowned. "That's the borin' stuff."_

"_Is it? It's my favorite part about you."_

"_Yer forgettin' my wicked sense of humor and my sexy smile and the way I memorized every little thing that gets ya excited." Tasuki leaned down, kissing right below the other's ear and slowly making his way down, sucking on his neck and eliciting a suppressed moan._

_Tasuki glanced up while swinging his left leg over to straddle the man. "Don't silence yerself," he muttered, leaning back down to nip at the exposed skin. "You sound so beautiful when ya scream my name…"_

-

"Genrou." Koji sighed heavily, moved in his desk chair and threw his ruler at his roommate. "Hey! Loverboy!"

Genrou sat up suddenly from his dorm room bed and turned, picking the ruler up and throwing it back. "What's yer problem?"

"I've said your name five times, Genrou, where the hell were ya?"

"I was thinkin', that's all."

Koji arched a brow. "About?"

Genrou immediately turned away, rubbing his face to try and keep it from blushing up. "None of yer business, that's what!"

Koji nodded before turning back to his homework. "Why don't ya go take care of that hard on and I'll pretend I didn't see it so you aren't embarrassed."

Genrou looked down, groaning inwardly at the condition in his pants. "Fuck, I can't stand this." He stood up, quickly running to the bathroom and slamming the door shut. He could hear Koji chuckling as he locked the door and slid down the wall, raising his knees up to rest his elbows on.

Genrou pulled his legs closer and dropped his head. If that rainstorm hadn't come on them while they had been driving that night as teenagers, they never would have been hurt. They never would have remembered their past lives and they never would have had to deal with the knowledge.

Genrou never would have had to cope with his broken heart for the past four years.

-

"Shit, this rain is gettin' worse," Genrou spoke, both hands gripping the steering wheel of his old car.

"Least the streets are empty this time of night," Koji said from his shotgun seat. "Damn," he muttered. "This is somethin' unnatural."

"We're almost back to my place," Genrou muttered, more to himself than to Koji, reassurance in his voice.

The rain beat down on the windshield, the wipers unable to keep up even at full speed. The roads were getting washed out and hail was starting to fall. Occasionally, the sky lit up with such anger that it was as if it were on fire.

"_Shit, Genrou_!" Koji screamed.

Genrou slammed down on the breaks as a truck came weaving between the two lanes, but the rain kept the tires speeding along and the two vehicles crashed, tearing one another apart.

Then Genrou fell asleep. He had dreamed.

There had been voices, lots of voices, none of them familiar. One belonged to a young boy, another deep and soothing. One slightly nasally, another androgynous and the next rich and elegant. The last had two tones. His was high pitched, friendly, then it dropped, quiet and serious.

_I know you._

Blurred faces, blurred villages, towns, temples and castles, gardens, forests and _him_.

He dropped the kasa from his head and turned, blue hair tightly pulled back, the rest dropping over his forehead. A quirky sort of attire, with a robe strapped to one shoulder and a staff in the other hand.

_I had forgotten you._

He smiled, reached up and removed his façade. The paper dropped away, his face was scarred and smiling. He reached a hand out and whispered.

_I can't hear you, please speak louder._

There was a journey, a young woman, fighting, magic and war. There had been death and heart retching sadness.

_Did I lose you?_

The sadness felt of friends. _He_ was different.

_You are more to me._

He was a friend, a celestial brother, a teacher…

_A lover._

_I can't remember your name, please tell me!_

"Ri Houjun." His red eye twinkles and he looks so beautiful. "Chichiri."

Genrou was startled awake in a white hospital room, panting and crying out from the jolt that went through his body, awakening the pain in every limb. He dropped back against the pillow, turning his head slowly to his right. "K-Koji?"

Koji turned, laying in the bed across from him. "Finally awake, eh Genrou?"

"What… what happened?"

"A truck hit us." Koji frowned, waving his left hand a bit. "I'm so doped up on pain killers it ain't even funny..." He chuckled. "I feel so stupid." He eyed both of his legs in casts with curious contemplation.

"Car crash?"

"Heh, yeah. I woke up sometime yesterday, doctor said it was a miracle either of us came out."

"I had a strange dream."

"Me too!" Koji laughed dryly. "Musta been these drugs they gave me, cause it was _way_ out there." He looked back at his friend. "I was like, a bandit and shit, in China, I swear. It was too cool. Oh, you were in it too, Genrou. We were buddies, naturally."

Genrou turned suddenly and grunted again at the quick movement. "What did you say?" he asked around a pained pant.

"We were buddies."

"In— in where?"

"China, I think. It sure looked like China anyway. You were like, some guy who was good friends with the emperor, it was neat."

_Hotohori._

Koji laughed again. "I just said 'neat.'"

"I had a dream like that," Genrou muttered.

"No shit?"

Genrou nodded. "Hotohori was the emperor."

Koji blinked. "Yeah, in mine too."

"I was friends with a group of guys, we were warriors and there was a girl— they called me Tasuki…"

"I remember yer buddy, Chichiri, he was always hangin' around you. You had some hopeless crush on—" Koji stopped, seeming to have suddenly sobered up quite quickly from the pain killers. He glanced back at Genrou. "This feels more intense than any dream I've ever had."

Genrou covered his eyes with his hand. "There was a Chichiri in my dream, too." His eyes welled with tears that began to run down his cheeks without warning. "He was everything to me…"

"Genrou, you okay?"

Genrou lowered his arm and gasp as he stared at a bright, burning red symbol on his skin. He studied it through his blurry vision and sniffed quietly.

_Wing,_ he thought. _ One of the seven warriors of Suzaku. Wing and Well, we were always together. _"Oh god what's going on?"

-

Koji knocked on the door. "Hello, who is it? Why it's Koji, who really needs to take a piss in the bathroom but Genrou has locked himself in for a marathon masturbation session. Ah well, please come in."

Genrou opened his eyes, rubbing his face and looking around to suddenly realize he fell asleep in their shared bathroom.

"Genrou, get the point? Hurry the fuck up!"

"Yeah, sorry, hold on." Genrou stood and unlocked the door. He moved aside. "I fell asleep," he stated stupidly.

"You have no stamina."

"I wasn't jerkin' off."

"Sure."

Genrou growled and hit Koji in the back of the head before his roommate shut the door. "I'm goin' out for a walk."

Grabbing his university sweatshirt, Genrou pulled it over his head quickly, grabbed his wallet and keys and left the room. He was suddenly feeling so claustrophobic that if he didn't get outside and breathe in some fresh air someone was going to pay for it. He took the side stairs and left the dormitory building, the cold night nipping right through his clothes as he shut the door behind him.

Streetlamps were on, a few students walking about, two smoking further to his left.

Inhaling the crisp air for a few minutes made the anxiety level in Genrou drop slowly and once he was feeling better, he walked away from the dorm. Genrou wandered across the college campus, weighing the choice of taking a full walk across the grounds and getting back late or only going halfway and coming back in time to finish his business assignment.

_Chichiri…_ Genrou let the name dance through his thoughts. It slipped through his lips and caused him to smile as it left a tingling sensation. _I'll get him back, like Koji said. Chiri never failed on a promise._

Without keeping his eyes on where he was walking and instead, gazing at the sky, surrounded by his thoughts, Genrou walked straight into a teacher coming out of one of the buildings. He startled backwards, catching himself on the wall while the professor crashed to the ground.

"Shit!" he cursed. "I'm sorry," he started, taking a step forward and holding a hand out. "Really sorry, I wasn't watchin'." He took the man's hand and hoisted him up.

"That's alright," Houjun replied, wiping his pants absently. "It's dark out." He glanced up and a quick hint of surprise flashed through his dark eyes. "Genrou," he stated.

"Chi—" Genrou bit his lip and shook his head. "Professor, shit, I really am sorry." He dropped down and picked up Houjun's folders and briefcase, holding them out haphazardly.

Houjun smiled innocently, taking his things. "Thank you, Genrou."

Genrou nodded, sticking his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt.

"_Ya need to talk with him," Koji had said once the two had settled into their dorm for the evening._

"_Sure, that's easy, invitin' a teacher out for a night on the town!"_

"_I mean, casual. Who says no to coffee, eh?"_

"_Are you serious?"_

_Koji nodded adamantly. "You ain't gonna be able to win his heart if ya won't even talk to him. Ya never know, Chiri was a smart guy, maybe all it'll take for him to remember is something you say."_

"Well, I'll see you next week, Genrou." Houjun bowed his head politely and turned away from the front door.

"Hey, uh, Professor," Genrou started, his heart leaping up to his throat, making him feel like he were about to vomit from nerves. He hurried to Houjun's side. "You busy?"

"Did you need to set up an appointment?"

"What? No, nothin' like that." Genrou shook his head at Houjun's professionalism. "I was wonderin' if you were— I mean, that I'm going out to get a cup of coffee…" He hesitated as Houjun eyed him like a wary animal who was unable to hide his curiosity at the same time. "My treat, if you'd like to come along."

"Oh well," Houjun paused, gripping his folders a bit tightly. He tried to ignore the leaping aura around Genrou, the dance of nervousness it played before him. "I really shouldn't—"

"You got plans then?"

"No, it's just—"

Genrou barred his wicked grin, hoping it would work on Houjun the way it used to. "One cup, on me, for droppin' you to the ground. It's good coffee too, promise."

Houjun could sense a hopefulness in the student amongst the anxious excitement. Perhaps if he could speak with him for a short time, know more about him than his name and that he is apparently prone to being late for class, Houjun would have a chance to find out what it is exactly that has made it difficult for him to get an accurate reading on the fiery boy.

"I— I suppose I have time for a quick cup."

Genrou's smile grew. "Yeah? Great!"

-

The two were seated by a middle aged waitress who came straight back to the table before they could remove their coats and poured two cups of coffee for them.

Houjun pulled his mug close and reached for the small jar of cream the waitress had left. He began to mix his beverage silently.

Genrou stared at the older man happily. He looked so beautiful, the same as in his memories. He still retained that air of noble yet humble intelligence, the aura heavy with the patience and gentleness of a saint and his long time beloved, perfect with one eye, had been given the chance this lifetime to have both.

"So, Professor…"

Houjun looked up and wrapped his hands around his cup. "You can call me Houjun, Genrou."

"Really?"

Houjun bit the inside of his cheek. _What did you say?_ "Only, I mean, since we're not in a classroom setting." He quickly took a sip of the hot drink, ignoring the burn.

"Houjun," Genrou said quietly, a smile growing at a steady pace across his face. "How long have you been teaching?"

"Not long," Houjun replied, setting the mug down. He pointed to it. "That is good coffee."

"Told ya."

Houjun smiled politely and continued speaking. "I just began teaching my second year."

"How ya like it?"

"It's pleasant," Houjun answered. "Sometimes a bit… overwhelming, however, I do enjoy teaching."

Genrou nodded, enraptured by the casual conversation, ignoring his brew completely. "I can't believe I attended school an entire year without knowin' you were here."

Houjun's gaze shifted slightly, a sense of confusion fluttering past his face. "What do you mean?"

Genrou sat back suddenly, getting in the deep end too quickly. "Nothin' only that— you know, you're a good teacher, I liked today's class. My other… teachers are not as…" Genrou struggled to be honest and lie at the same time. "Versed."

Houjun chuckled quietly. "Oh, I see. Well, thank you, I'm glad to know someone enjoys my courses."

"How'd ya get into ancient studies?" Genrou asked, slowly easing forward once more.

Houjun took another sip of his coffee before saying, "I don't remember a time when I wasn't intrigued by the history of long ago empires. It's simply fascinating."

Genrou nodded and he remarked quietly as he reached for a sugar packet. "I like Chinese history, myself."

"Really?" Houjun sounded impressed. "I do as well. You know, I teach a course on just China, if you are interested."

Genrou looked up through his thick hair. "Sounds wonderful." He grinned widely.

-

Light talk, mostly about school but Genrou left the café with a heart as light as a feather and a smile that he just couldn't wipe off his face. Houjun, while remaining reserved, had shown in his aura that he was much more relaxed around Genrou than in class and he seemed to have enjoyed himself.

_Every little step counts,_ Genrou thought.

"Thank you, Genrou, for the invitation. I've never been in this café before." Houjun bowed his head. "Have a good evening."

"You too, Houjun." Genrou watched Houjun step across the street and for the first few seconds, he was content to simply watch the older man leave, then without warning, he was running after him, his brain leaps behind his body in the chase to recover himself. "Houjun!"

Houjun stopped suddenly and turned. "What is it?"

"_I ain't gonna lie to ya anymore, Chiri. I ain't gonna wait a minute longer to say this!"_

"_Tasuki—"_

"_I love you!" Tasuki grabbed the front of Chichiri's shirt, tugging him forward in the middle of the empty stretch of road. "Please, say somethin'. Please, tell me ya love me, too."_

"Genrou? Are you alright?"

"Want to go out again sometime?" Genrou heard it come out too late to stop himself.

Houjun blinked, a bit startled and held his belongings a little tighter. "I— Genrou, I don't think that is such a wise idea."

"Why not?" _I need you so badly. You're so close that it's breaking my soul._

Houjun shook his head. "I'm sorry, Genrou but I—"

"I know ya like men," Genrou exclaimed, pointing. "You _have_ to!"

"_What_!?" Houjun's voice rose and he fought to keep a level head at the sudden turn of events.

"Don't ya even try to squirm yer way outta that shit again!"

"What on Earth is wrong with you, Genrou!?"

Genrou moved closer, his stomach plummeting as he watched Houjun back away. "It's just because, yer a teacher, right? Ya don't want any drama."

"We are not having this conversation, Genrou." Houjun turned and began to walk away briskly, vanishing into the night.

Genrou stood on the edge of the sidewalk, hating himself. _Ya always lose your cool._

-

To Be Continued

PirateShotgun


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